


tap-tap-tapping

by gypsumgreen



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, Asexual Relationship, Author Is Sleep Deprived, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, Idiots in Love, Insomnia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, Social Media, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, at first, biromantic dream, demiromantic george, dream is still a mcyter, george is a rhythm game player, george isnt popular, i guess, i'm projecting so badly, im not sure, still massively popular, well not "in love" in love at the beginning but they're the endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28546512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsumgreen/pseuds/gypsumgreen
Summary: Youtube recommendations always were weird.Or:Massively popular Dream comments on a new video absolutely not popular rhythm game player George uploads. The internet explodes and shenanigans ensue. Featuring social anxiety.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Sapnap & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65





	1. things always go to hell on the best of days

**Author's Note:**

> I'm totally not projecting lmao
> 
> [For reference to George's video (not mine)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-fO6c7Uft4&t=88s).
> 
> also don't mind the tense changes i typed half of this sleep deprived and another half slightly less sleep deprived and i can't be bothered to change it back. Just assume it's all in past tense
> 
> edit: realized that dream couldn't know george's twitter lol pls ignore it for the sake of plot

Dream was bored. He’s always bored. Everything seemed bleak, tasted like water and sugarless Jello.

He hauls himself up from yet another futile attempt at sleep at midnight and turns on his computer, not bothering to switch the lights on. 

He decides to go on Youtube. The night is less lonely when there’s sound for company.

The website takes a few moments to load - he glares half-heartedly at the dark screen as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt. 

It finishes loading. He scrolls through the page, looking for… _something_. Something to stave off the unending well of boredom in his chest.

Minecraft, Minecraft… and more Minecraft. Dream sighs. He likes Minecraft, but sometimes he just wants something different.

A video catches his eye. Not Minecraft (some kind of mobile game?), uploaded ten minutes ago with two views. Must be a smaller channel. Usually his videos would get a few hundred thousand views by the five minute mark. Curious, he clicks in.

He doesn’t know why he expects an intro, maybe someone speaking, but there isn’t one, rather, the video starts immediately, and right in the middle of the (rather intense)level. 

Looks like a rhythm game. He distantly remembers his sister playing something like that a few months back.

The level is paused and restarted. Dream props his head on his hands. He’s starting to get drowsy, but he knows that he still won’t be able to sleep just yet.

He doesn’t expect the barrage of music and notes to happen, and he’s jerked awake by it.

_Holy shit._

He stares, gaping, at the screen. The person on the screen doesn’t even seem to be fazed by it, fingers practically vibrating on the screen.

 _Holy fucking shit_.

He hasn’t recovered by the time the video ends, and thankfully he has autoplay switched off, allowing him to gather his thoughts.

Okay. Wow. He has to comment something. 

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, before he decided on “ _hey i just saw this in my recommendations and??? what??? are you even human anymore? /j”_ ”.

This should suffice. 

He subscribes, too.

He hopes that George (the Youtuber) and his viewers don't recognise him.

* * *

Well there went his hopes.

In the three hours he slept, the comment absolutely blew up, taking the video and its creator along for the ride.

Twitter went wild about it, the hashtag #dreamscomment trending in the United States. 

Hopes dashed and thrown in the paper shredded and lit with a match.

He likes his popularity, but sometimes he wished he never uploaded that first video. This is one of the times.

Someone went viral just because he wanted to comment on a video he was impressed in. Not that he didn’t want the creator to get famous (such skill!), but he resented the fact that couldn’t participate in things outside of what he was known for without the whole internet turning its eyes on him.

He hated it.

* * *

George sleeps in on Saturdays, waking up around ten. It’s the only day he could, after all, working three jobs and being a Youtuber at the same time didn’t give much in the way of free time. He had a shift at twelve, too, so he had to hurry.

He checked his phone briefly, noting the time (eleven fifteen, looks like the extra hour spent awake wasn’t doing him any favours). 

His Youtube had a big red 999+ on it. 

Huh?

The alarm rang half-past eleven.

He’d check it later.

* * *

George returns home from his shift. It was awkward, to say the least. People stared at him in the restaurant, whispering among themselves as his back was turned, sometimes not even bothering to hide.

What happened that he became popular all of a sudden?

He regrets wishing to be popular that one time he saw a shooting star back when he was seventeen. Maybe “a steady income” would have been better.

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

Sapnap.

“George! You’re trending on Twitter!” he yells, something raucous playing in the background. Is he at the band rehearsal? Certainly sounds like it.

“Yeah, Sapnap. How did it come about? I didn’t have time to check,” he asks, settling on the couch.

“Well, y’know that video you made? _Dream_ commented on it, and everyone went and watched it. ‘S more because of Dream, but they apparently were impressed by you too,” Spanap said.

“What.”

“I know! _Dream_ himself! Man, I’m so envious of you, think you can get him to comment on ours?”

“You have more than a million views each video, Sapnap, and I barely have ten thousand my last five videos added up - well, if what you’re saying is true, the second to last five videos,” George said, smiling into the phone. “Anyway, did he really? That’s unbelievable.”

“Go check for yourself; I’ll wait,” Sapnap almost sounded smug.

He turned on his laptop, opening Youtube. 

...Okay. Wow.

That was a sudden spike in viewers, and the most well-liked comment on the video was from Dream.

_Dream: hey i just saw this in my recommendations and??? what??? are you even human anymore? /j”_

Dream, the Minecraft Youtuber with a few million subscribers, commented on _his video_.

He knew DanceRail’s BPM=RT was impressive to full combo, and Dream probably just wanted to leave a comment on it, but his mind couldn’t fully process it.

After some time, he spoke.

“What the fuck.”

Sapnap laughed. Dammit, he could _hear_ the man’s grin.

“Look at that! Little George finally growing to be popular!”

“Shut up, Sapnap,” he said, though there was no heat in the words. “What do I do now? I think I should reply? What should I say?”

“Hm. Well you probably shouldn’t be too excited, nor should you be too cold… maybe thank him and say that you’ve never had a video this popular before? No, that won’t work. Uh… just thank him?”

“Great advice there, Sap.”

“Should I ask Karl? H-” Sapnap was cut off by George.

“Ah- maybe I could DM him on Twitter?”

“And?” he prompted.

“And- and maybe I could talk to him there, so nobody happens to analyze it or something?” George didn’t sound too sure of himself.

“Ooh, that could work- Karl, I’m _talking_ to George- alright, alright - come pick up my corpse, George!”

He stifled a laugh. “Go get your things done, Sapnap. Karl, good job for wrangling him, but don’t be too harsh on him.”

George hung up and buried his face in his hands.

All those plans and none of the courage.

He opened Twitter. Thankfully he didn’t link his Twitter to Youtube, but knowing the power of the internet community it would probably be found out in a matter of days.

That is, if this continued. He hoped not.

George stared at the screen, wondering if he should just ignore the buzz and carry on as usual. As if nothing happened. As if one of the biggest Youtubers didn’t comment on his mediocre video. He could still stay silent about it. Maybe then nothing else would happen and the sudden popularity would just die out.

Twitter pinged. 

_dreamwastaken: so about the comment_

George flinched and nearly dropped the phone. With shaking hands, he opened the chat.

_dreamwastaken: i forgot i wasn’t on my alt acc_  
_dreamwastaken: im really sorry_

* * *

Well.

That definitely didn’t come out wrong.

Dream leant back.

That could be taken as “I didn’t want you popular”, right? Was that condescending? Did he make a bad first - no, second - impression on him? 

_georgenootfound is typing…_

_georgenootfound is typing…_

His fingers were shaking. 

Was he that bad at talking to new people? Technoblade did say that he was quite awkward at first. 

He always did end up saying the wrong things.

* * *

George didn’t know what to say.

What _should_ he say?

Thanks, like what he had planned to? No, Dream messaged him first, it would look bad as that could be construed as he really wanted to be popular and that he was just a stepping stone. It could also come out as sarcastic. No, no, he had to think of _something_ polite. 

_well that was unexpected but yknow things happen and-_

No. Too verbose, sounded like he was rambling and that wouldn’t do.

_I really like your vi-_

Don’t change the subject, George. Don’t act like an overly-obsessed fan.

_ah its fine accidents happen_

He stared at the short line for a long while.

He clicked send, then followed up with _dw im sure itll die down after a while_.

Was that alright? Did he need to rephrase his words?

Oh well. Spilled words and milk.

He’s still uneasy when he returns from showering.

* * *

Dream chewed on his lip.

What… what should he reply with?

He could feel beads of cold sweat running down his neck.

Dammit, this was why he didn’t converse with virtual strangers.

After some time, he typed out _thanks for understanding_

It seemed too cold. Maybe he should be slightly more friendly?

_wanna be friends?_

No, not that friendly.

Still… it’d be nice to have a friend that wasn’t on Minecraft, nor steadily popular. Not that he didn’t like his current friends. It was just that sometimes he felt his every move with them scrutinized, picked apart and classified somewhere.

And having more friends is good, right?

_dreamwastaken: wanna be friends?_


	2. step out into the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> None of them find socializing easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woot woot anxiety
> 
> this probably counts as filler but i really didn't feel like writing 3k word chapters even though it's like. average for a chapter
> 
> am i projecting a little too hard? yeah i am. 
> 
> i actually dont know how to write anxiety/panic attacks. tell me if it came out well bc i dont think it did
> 
> another thing: i keep changing up the tenses??? its gonna be a running theme. also also idk if my writing style has changed or not i feel like it changes every now and then but i cant really tell
> 
> drista is named jennifer here bc its my (older) sister's name and i cant really think of anything else
> 
> the chapter title (and fic title) is inspired by dear evan hansen (tbh i think im gonna put most chapter titles as lines from/inspired by musicals).
> 
> ps: for those who read this before/during january 6th ive added some tags

The freezing water of winter’s non-heated shower water cascaded down his skin. The flat was eerily muted, the usual raucous traffic but white noise in his ears. It felt like a dream.

Heh.

Funny, it all felt so real. How would he escape this dream? By waiting it out? 

Was he ever real at all, or was he always just dreaming? Had his life just been one huge lie? Was he lying in an alley somewhere, barely alive? Would anybody find him?

His breath hitched, the cold water unfelt anymore.

Maybe no one would. Maybe he would die alone. Maybe no one cared at all. 

Distantly, he could feel his pulse speed up. _Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum._

He’s being irrational, he knew.

But his heart beat like the fluttering of a hummingbird’s wings and his breathing wouldn’t slow and _he was panicking and he’s losing control of himself-_

He braced himself against the tiles, legs shaking. The water still poured down, a torrential downpour that soaked him to the bone.

He counted his fingers, all so long and white, stark against the dark tiles, each joint a bony knob.

One, two, three, four, five on each. Five and five makes ten. Five toes on each foot, one two three four five. Ten toes. Ten and ten make twenty. Two hands, two arms. Two feet, two legs. Four limbs, one head, one torso.

His name is George. He is found, if only by himself.

He exhaled. 

This isn’t a dream. He’s fine. Everything will be fine. 

His fingers were beginning to prune. George exited the shower. 

Turning on his phone, he saw a new message by Dream.

_dreamwastaken: wanna be friends?_

(but this not being a dream means that everything he did would eventually circle back to bite him and oh god was he terrified-)

The screen is bright in the darkness of the dusk-darkened flat. 

He wants to hide, somewhere, somehow. Away from the world, away from himself.

_one two three one two three breathe in and out-_

George doesn’t want to be friends. He doesn’t want the eventual resignation letter. He doesn’t want to spend another week, another month, another _year_ thinking and rethinking where he did wrong.

(because Sapnap would leave too and he just wanted to learn to live by himself because because because)

He doesn’t want to be friends.

_georgenootfound: sure why not_

* * *

“Eat, Clay.”

She’s coaxing him to eat again. Dream stared at his lunch.

Chicken, cabbage, potatoes.

He didn’t want to eat.

His stomach hurt, just a little, gnawing at something deep inside him.

He picked up his utensils warily and swallowed a half-bite of mashed potatoes. They taste like butter and fresh, fresh potatoes. Mom’s best. 

He couldn’t bear to eat. Still, he swallowed. 

“Are you okay?” Jennifer asked.

“I- I’ll be alright,” he said weakly, because talking would make him yet another annoyance and he didn’t want to be an annoyance but he didn’t know why talking made him annoying so he just shut up and never spoke loudly. Speak when he’s spoken to. 

And when he was online - well, he could speak normally. No huge consequences. Then he blew up and had to maintain that status but now he hadn’t the energy to.

He’s tired.

Bite, chew, swallow. Bite, chew, swallow. Rubbery chicken and soft peas that gave way to the taste of chlorophyll.

He’s ravenous.

He suppressed the urge to gag.

Two o’clock. He swallowed the last morsels and moved to his room. Speaking of which, he hardly came out of his room anymore. Would his family worry? He didn’t want them to worry anymore about himself. He was already too much.

_georgenootfound: sure why not_

_1:07 pm_

Oh no. No, no, no. An _hour_ since it was sent. George probably thought that he was too full of himself already, replying so late to a text. _An hour_.

He should apologize. He did eat too slowly at lunch - picking at his food, chewing too slowly, zoning out. Perhaps he would be forgiven. Perhaps this newly budded friendship (could he even call it that? Was it only him that considered it a friendship? What if it dissolved because of him?) could be saved.

_dreamwastaken: heyo sorry for the late reply i had lunch but thanks_

_dreamwastaken: it’s kinda out of the blue yknow bc usually ppl dont wanna suddenly be friends with a stranger so i didnt expect a reply so soon_

_dreamwastaken: do you have discord? ill add you as a friend_

Maybe.

* * *

George was eating dinner when Dream texted back. He scooped his phone up from his couch and read it.

_dreamwastaken: heyo sorry for the late reply i had lunch but thanks_

_dreamwastaken: it’s kinda out of the blue yknow bc usually ppl dont wanna suddenly be friends with a stranger so i didnt expect a reply so soon_

_dreamwastaken: do you have discord? ill add you as a friend_

His finger hovered over the text box. What should he say? _Coincidence lol im having dinner_? But that would put Dream in a bad position, like saying “hey _I_ could text back while eating why couldn’t _you_?” and he didn’t want to make Dream feel bad. Friendships were a delicate thing, especially in the earlier stages.

He shouldn’t mention meals, then.

He asked if he had Discord. Well, that was an easy question. He sent Dream his username.

He had texted so much, though. George had to reciprocate somehow. He hated this aspect of socializing. It was like walking through a minefield to get to a destination. Essential, but the slightest wrong could trigger a mine.

_georgenootfound: tbh youre pretty cool_

_georgenootfound: i like you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! leave a kudo and/or comment if you liked this!

**Author's Note:**

> hope y'all enjoyed it i'll try to update weekly, leave a comment or kudo if you liked it
> 
> (shameless self promo)[my yt channel (slightly unsettling music)](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCchnTIhFe8k8OP3WKptyvVw) and my twitter handle is @took_your_wigs


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